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Fans of the crisp, newspaper-thin pancake are lining up at one Tampa shop where the cook keeps them coming hot off the grill.
By BABITA PERSAUD, Times Staff Writer
© St. Petersburg Times, published October 2, 2002
TAMPA -- Every country has its pancake.
The French have the crepe. Ethiopians, injera. Chinese, the Mandarin pancake. Russians: blini. Italians: crespella. Mexicans: tortilla.
And India?
It has the dosa, a rice and lentil pancake sometimes eaten plain but more often filled with curried potatoes and onions. That is when the sada (plain) dosa becomes the savory masala dosa.
"Eat it like a burrito," Nagu Shankar, of N.S. Food in Tampa, tells customers.
The masala dosa is a bit larger than a burrito, though. Its soft ends spill over the paper plate and when it's picked up in the middle, the tasty filling falls out.
The pancake is thin, like a newspaper and crisp on the edge. Folded into the dosa's middle, snug like the lapels of a jacket, is a curried onion and potato mixture. The curry is light, dimmed by the potatoes.
"Dosa is a food that is liked by many from north India to south India, east and west," Shankar says. "It is a very important pancake."
A staple of south Indian cuisine, the dosa has made its way around the globe and achieved fame of late among vegetarians and health food devotees. It has roots deep in Indian history, first appearing in Tamil Sangam literature in the 6th century A.D.
In India, dosas are served at breakfast, accompanied by a milky tea. Or they are a light afternoon snack served with coconut chutney and a lentil soup called sambar.
Originally from south India, they can now be found all over India, on the breakfast buffet of a five-star hotel or at rickety roadside stands.
The dosa's popularity in India blossomed mostly because it was the perfect dish to serve a house full of hungry children, uncles, aunts, cousins, second cousins and so on. A little batter makes a lot of pancakes.
In preparation for such a gathering, a bucket full of creamy batter was prepared the day before. To make the batter, urad dal, skinned and split black lentils and rice were ground together, mixed with water and left to ferment in the warmth of the kitchen overnight.
The next day, mothers, grandmothers and aunties would take turns pouring streams of batter onto hot cast iron griddles, flipping dosas, maybe gossiping and catching up on news, while kids delivered plates to guests. No one left hungry.
In America, the dosa gained limited popularity in the 1990s when places such as the Dosa Hut popped up in Manhattan. The Dosa Hut was a change from most Indian restaurants, which favored the meaty and heavily sauced dishes of north Indian cuisine, such as chicken tikka masala and vindaloo. But even today, the dosa is less well-known than tandoori chicken or samosas.
Dosas are sometimes served at the Hindu Temple of Florida in Carrollwood, after a pooja, or prayer ceremony with hundreds of local Indians. The dosas are made by women of the congregation. At N.S. Food and Gifts at 5522 Hanley Road, dosas are the main draw.
But it wasn't always this way.
Nagu Shankar, 55, and her husband, Vijaya, 63, both originally from Karnataka, a state in southern India, opened the small Indian market six years ago.
Quickly, word spread about Shankar and her knack for dosas.
In Fort Lauderdale, while her husband, a mechanical engineer, was working on his master's degree in international business at Nova University and she was at home, thinking about a medical secretary course, she started making dosas for students.
"It is people's idea to start the dosas," Shankar says of the customers. "They encouraged us a lot."
N.S. Food is the kind of place where the television is always on, an Indian movie turned up loud with a woman singing from behind a tree. Vinyl tablecloths cover folding tables. A box of mangoes is stacked in the corner. Small children hold Ring Pops candies.
"People don't treat this as a restaurant," Shankar says. "They treat it like home. They come into the kitchen. They say, 'Auntie, I'm feeling so hungry.' "
Some Saturdays, lines form outside the door. Vijaya Shankar rushes around, taking orders. "Three masala dosas," he calls to his wife, who is in the back, cooking.
On a busy Saturday, she makes 250 dosas. And afterward, she still smiles.
"I make it from scratch," she says proudly.
She stands at the commercial cooker. The back door is ajar. A breeze cools the air. On the flat grill, Shankar pours the batter from a metal ladle, making a spiral as big as a pizza. It bubbles. She waits. She flips it with a metal spatula. And waits, again. This time, only a second. She slides it to a paper plate. In the center, she spoons in a potato and red onion mixture. The warm smell of curry rises.
She calls her husband, who passes it to a customer.
Shankar moves on to the next dosa.
Her rhythm is down pat.
And yours can be too.
Masala dosas, Shankar says, can be made at home -- if you keep some tips in mind.
Be adventurous. Making dosas will lead you to undiscovered places, like an Indian grocery store. That is where you will find all the ingredients. The sona masoori rice, the ponni boiled rice, urad dal, mustard seeds, chana dal, curry leaves, toor dal, a yellow lentil.
It might take a while to find everything, but ask questions. Once you find your ingredients, you will feel like you have found gold.
Be patient. It takes two days to make dosas. Yes, there is a quickie version using Cream-of-Wheat. And yes, mixes are available.
But to make the true dosa takes time.
Preparation for dosas starts the night before, grinding the rice and the urad dal separately, leaving them both in a warm oven to ferment.
"If you want to eat dosa today, preparation has to be done from yesterday," Shankar says.
Be persistent. The first time you make dosas you will fail. Everyone does. Even if you start small. Like life, you have to try and try again. Pouring the batter takes skill. So keep trying.
It will be worth it, Nagu Shankar says.
There is a reason people come up to her, nudge her and say: "Auntie, make me a masala dosa."
1/2 cup split and skinned urad dal (black lentils), see note
1-1/2 cups long-grain rice
1 teaspoon salt
Water for soaking
Wash the dal and the rice separately until cloudiness disappears. Soak each separately in tepid water at room temperature for four hours. Drain the dal and the rice, retaining liquid. Grind each separately in a blender, add a small amount of reserved liquid to make a smooth paste.
Pour both batters into an oversized bowl to mix. The combined batter should now look like pancake batter. Add the teaspoon of salt. Cover the bowl loosely with plastic film and place in a warm oven overnight, about eight hours. For a gas oven, heat from a pilot light should suffice. For an electric oven, heat to 225 degrees for five minutes, then turn it off. If after four to five hours you don't see much fermentation in the batter, sprinkle 1/4 teaspoon of salt on the surface and return to the oven.
The next day, remove the bowl from the oven and mix again. The batter should double in volume, becoming thick and foamy. It will smell slightly sour. Note: You can keep this batter covered in the refrigerator for up to a week.
Heat a nonstick griddle or a heavy frying pan over medium high heat. Lightly oil the surface, rubbing off excess with a paper towel.
Pour 1/4 cup of the batter into the center of the griddle or frying pan. Take a laddle (flat bottom works best), and beginning at the center, spread the batter in a circular motion, like drawing a spiral. Spread it as thin as possible into a 10- or 12-inch circle. Work quickly, as the batter will start to cook as soon as it touches the pan. Don't worry about filling in holes that might form in the pancake; they are a natural part of most dosas.
Let the pancake bubble lightly. You can cover for 30 seconds, if you want. It is ready to flip when edges separate from the pan. Both sides should be golden brown. Spoon masala dosa filling into the center and fold.
Makes 14 dosas.
Note: Urad dal can be purchased at Indian markets and some whole food stores.
Source: Adapted from the Los Angeles Times.
3 white potatoes, peeled and diced
2 red onions, sliced lengthwise
5 green chilis, slit lengthwise
1 teaspoon grated ginger
1 tablespoon coriander
1 teaspoon mustard seeds
1 teaspoon urad dal, a white lentil found at Indian markets
1 teaspoon channa dal, a dark lentil
8 cashews halved
2 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/2 teaspoon turmeric powder
1 tablespoon lime juice
2 teaspoon salt
14 plain dosas (see accompanying recipe)
Boil the potatoes in salted water until tender, about 20 minutes. Set aside.
Heat oil in a nonstick saucepan over medium-high heat. Add cashews and brown lightly. Add dal and mustard seeds, which will start to pop. Let them pop for 5 to 8 seconds; reduce heat to medium. Add chilis and red onions. Fry until tender. Add turmeric, coriander and salt. Add boiled potatoes. Fry until golden brown, about 12 to 15 minutes. Add lime juice. Add 3 or 4 tablespoons of water. Cook until absorbed.
To assemble the dosa, spoon potato and onion mixture onto center of the pancake. Fold sides over, like a burrito.
Makes enough filling for 14 dosas.
Source: Adapted from the Los Angeles Times.
1/2 cup flour
1/4 cup Cream of Wheat
1/4 cup rice flour
1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
1 small onion, minced
2 teaspoons minced serrano chili
1 teaspoon minced ginger root, optional
1 to 2 cups water
1-1/4 teaspoons salt
Nonstick cooking spray
Oil
Mix together flour, Cream of Wheat, rice flour, cumin, onion, chili, optional ginger, 1 cup of water and the salt, adding more water by the quarter cup as needed to form a thin batter.
Lightly spray a nonstick griddle or frying pan with cooking spray and heat over medium-high heat. Spread 1/4 cup of batter at a time thinly on the griddle or in the pan, working from the center outward, in a circular motion. Spoon some oil around the edges and cover. When the dosa is cooked through and crisp, about 2 minutes, flip it over and fry for 1 minute, adding more oil as necessary.
Makes 10 doasas.
Source: Los Angeles Times.